Once Again, With Feeling
by hearmelaugh
Summary: After the war, Lavi and Kanda arrange to meet one more time. Somewhere in China, they share tea, dumplings, and each other. Kinkmeme-fill, non-AU.


**Once again, with feeling**

The blood's barely dried on his many, many cuts, and already he has received _that _look from Bookman, like a petulant child complaining that this is taking too long.

Lavi takes his role as the parent who ignores the whining, for the greater good. He manages a creaky nod at Bookman, with a dishonestly apologetic smile. "In a bit, old man. Got t'make sure everyone's breathing 'nd kicking."

Just one person, really. They really don't have enough time for anything else.

Kanda's half-buried, but with both legs and the half from his right shoulder to his left hip under the rubble he will still proudly say, I buried them all the way. He knows they've won; no one has tried to kill him in the past fifteen minutes. The broken stones can be carved away until they become sand; he has time.

Absently he wonders about the losses they must have suffered. The Vatican scream and proclaim this their holy war, Good versus Evil, the Devil Himself is called to attend, but victory seems a shade of grey.

Everything's broken. He can't feel the fingers of his right hand.

A face appears, blocking out that beautiful blue sky. Long, unkempt red strands threaten to add to the filth on Kanda's face, and he scowls. "I thought you'd died."

The redhead grinned. "Shall be doing so, soon. Lavi's kicking th'bucket in a half hour, but tell Lenalee 'nd Allen I didn't _really_die, yeah? I'd help dig you out, but we're in a rush."

He's known this day would come, they both did. And for such a combative person, Kanda's made his peace with it. "Hmm."

And it does feel Kanda's a lot more alright with this than Lavi, who is antsy and anxious at this loss. "C'mon, now, emote! I could go out 'nd cheat on you, y'know."

Maybe it's the sharp bit of stone that's stabbing his side, but Kanda can't seem to find anything worth worrying about. "For the rest of your life is a long time to ask an idiot rabbit to stop fucking around."

Lavi sighs, because true though that may be, baby, where is your romantic soul? "Any final request before I leave for f'ever?"

"Write about me."

And Lavi is confused. "Er. Why?"

Kanda's staring at the sky again, and he keeps expecting an Akuma to lean over him. "My past isn't mine. You make sure that my legend is."

That is. Don't let me be forgotten (because I don't remember my own memories). They've spoken about this too. (They've spoken more than Kanda is comfortable with).

By this, Lavi is quite defeated. He picks up Kanda's free hand, and kisses the dirt with the blood on his lips. "Hey, Yuu. This time next year, down to th'day, I'll be kicking 'round in China. How good d'you reckon y'tracking skills are?"

And you'd be wrong to say Kanda had no sense of humour. Any joke a panther tells you you'd laugh at, wouldn't you? His smirk is as good as his smile. "Legendary."

It's the time of the year. Kanda's traveled along the Silk Road, and has already acquired beautiful, flowing fabric for Lenalee who thinks he's on his way to Japan for a Holy Communion with the land. She had asked him if he would like Allen to send him there, thank you Ark, but Kanda turned her down. It's the Communion part, he fibs. I must do this by myself. (What communion they don't know Kanda's more closely associated with pond water really).

She'd waved him off from the house she shared with her brother and Allen (and Kanda), months upon months ago. It's hard-going, trying to cross continents with little money and even less patience. If giving the illusion that he was an Oriental Lady helped get free transportation, he would bear it so long as no one _directly_called him a female. Buying the silks had cemented whatever reputation he had been forced to cultivate, and now he is in the right country.

China. She is quite large. Kanda can read a map if need be, and he can read the Chinese characters because the Science Department of Old had been big on educating him to be 'in character' as a young Japanese boy. But nowhere is there a big red cross that says, Lavi is here.

He perseveres.

Kanda's not very good at dates, but at this point he feels as if he's traveled half of China and no one knows anything of a red-haired 外人 (foreigner, as Lavi is as foreign as foreign gets to rice fields and junks in the ocean). He comes to this tiny village on this day (that he thinks will arrive next week) because he's heard that they make magnificent dumplings, and sometimes Kanda craves too.

He sits down in the little restaurant (that's really the owner's home with the front door knocked out and extended with bamboo poles) and he gets one of each type. Just a short rest, stop to recharge, then he'll cover the other half of China. The weather's hot, but something in his blood agrees with it, whatever synthetic factor that might be. It's hard to feel inhuman with sweat cooling on your brow and Chinese tea cooling in the pot by your side.

He pours out a glass, and toasts them both in his head. To the dumplings we could have shared.

"To the dumplings we'll share, Yuu," Lavi toasts and gulps from Kanda's glass as Kanda gapes. It's twilight, the world a bright orange that should be hideous yet is not.

Lavi had nodded at the woman who runs the place, and Kanda is not one to believe in fate but the pursuit of food has yielded him... this.

Lavi had just appeared, sliding into the seat opposite Kanda's as though they've just had dinner the night before. He doesn't look much different. "What the hell are you doing here."

Lavi tuts at him. "Forgot th'date already, Yuu-chan? How mean. You've broken m'heart, I swear."

He's been keeping count of the days since he left Lenalee, but the caravan across the dessert did strange things to his mind. He will concede that he may not be a hundred per cent accurate. But why had Lavi decided on this place Kanda arrived at randomly? More importantly, "How did I get the place right?"

"Goddess 'f Mercy must be smiling on Yuu?" Lavi grins and pops a prawn dumpling into his mouth. "No, but. It occurred t'me when we were in Eastern Europe that just saying China probably wasn't th'smartest thing I could've said. I thought, meh, Yuu should be bright enough t'head f'the capital, before informants told me y'were perilously close t'Mongolia and giving them yaks funny looks. Been hunting y'down f'almost a month, now."

Like this shade of orange, Kanda should find this annoying but he doesn't.

He almost smiles, and Lavi can tell, so he smiles for the both of them. "Would y'let me say I'm home, Kanda?"

Kanda scowls. "I don't welcome you."

"Oooh, harsh! I loved you, y'know."

Kanda shrugs. "What alias are you using now?"

"Wallace. Everyone calls me Allace."

"Alice?"

"Close enough?"

"Who's everyone?"

"This one guy I know who calls me Alice."

"You loved him."

"Oh, be nice t'me, I still do. Haven't cheated _once_, not even when this French courtesan flashed me her-"

"... What."

Lavi can't take too hot drinks, so he takes off the lid of the tea pot and it breathes out steam.

"Should I say happy anniversary?"

"I'm not happy yet."

"Yet?"

And the look Kanda sends Lavi doesn't need words.

The weather for the night is meant to be fair, and Kanda had not planned for this dumpling-excursion to take longer than just the day; he has nowhere to sleep that isn't under a tree (he's already chosen a lovely, leafy tree a little out of town).

He mentions that he has an extra thin blanket, based upon an understanding that this is as close to making an invitation as Kanda can get. Lavi (Alice!) is short on time; Kanda had thought his situation was bad, but three-tenths of Lavi's mind is always occupied with the future, three-tenths with the past, three-tenths with current events.

Kanda and the rest of the unrecorded world amount to one-tenth, and Kanda's not gifted at sums but that is quite wrong.

Though he gets shown sometimes that one-tenth of a beautifully stupid brain can amount to quite a lot.

Lavi actually has a room, for one.

It's simple, but it has a balcony. When an enemy rushes in through the front door, a balcony can be a life saver. This one looks out onto the hills that circle the village, ones that were a terror to climb when he couldn't find the trade route. Kanda packs a lot of nuts and seeds for a food supply. They're healthy, they're cheap, and most importantly they can be cultivated should ever the need arrive. While it would pain him to do so, he would much sooner start a bean sprout plantation on his frying pan than die of hunger.

Lavi clicks his fingers in front of Kanda's face. "Oi. Y'were a million miles off. Concentrate on me, yeah? A year's worth 'f withdrawal is _evil_."

Kanda agrees quietly. He locates the bed, he nods at it. The bed has to be a willing partner, or they'll wake up with sore backs (someone is already promised a sore bum).

"When do you have to leave?" Even if it's at dawn, they've shared dumplings and pots and pots of tea. Three and a half months of travel is worth that, it's worth that _easy_. Kanda always has people to find, you see.

And dedicating his life to such a cause may seem futile, but some people are worth finding (don't tell them that they are).

"Around noon." Lavi's smile is toothy, and Kanda is reminded of limestone hills. Because of their proud nature? Perhaps. Has he missed the sight of that smile? Perhaps.

He cocks his hip because he can, but a tunic two sizes two large he'd had to buy when he tore his shirt in a scuffle doesn't show off shape.

It's been a year. Whatever shape he has, he wants to show off. Peace-time hasn't made him softer, and straight lines are always admirable things.

Lavi mirrors his action. "Thought I'd be a lot more frantic, when I finally see Yuu with a bed nearby. We're being very calm, yeah?"

Kanda's a purist, and approaches self-fulfillment in a physical manner in much the same way he approaches everything else: Anything you can do I can do better. Lavi is a singular exception, but this isn't anything that arouses great anticipation in him. He just.

Just.

A little bit of contact. Pilgrims feel better at the sight of holiness.

Well. Kanda's wrapped in a robe and Lavi goes Om, Om, Om, then.

"We have time."

He takes his shirt off.

Lavi inhales, exhales. He tilts his head to one side, and he remembers all the times they've started like this. "Oh, Yuu." It's heartfelt when he's said it like this. Bookmen have no heaaaaaaaaarts, the old man would try and beat into him, but Lavi reckons a bit of exercise, even if it's only once a year, would do them all good. It's lazily picking up speed as it thumps.

"Y'do know when I kiss you you'll taste red bean on my tongue, yeah?"

This perhaps should be awkward, but they both know Kanda will taste of tea.

"I will excuse your incompetence. Come the hell here."

Going slow is fine too.

They undress while standing and looking at each other. It would be nice to say it was a grand unveiling, but one very, very fit boy's body isn't much different from another. Lavi's a little thinner now, which strangely makes him even more similar to Kanda.

They do stare though. Muscles are muscles, skin is skin, but as (former) Exorcists they _know_that they have souls and this floating, bobbing piece of their personal existence is what makes it special.

Kanda doesn't think it in that manner, exactly, but he does study Lavi's left shoulder while nodding to himself. Yes, that shoulder is special.

They stop and they look some more, and the crickets make noise as they must. A lot of them about; Kanda knows, he's had to eat them a couple of times. What a way to leave a sour taste in your mouth, let him tell you.

"Hey. Y'think it's okay if I say I missed Yuu? Only if y'suddenly give me y'opinion on the current economic expansion 'f Western Europe after th'defeat 'f the great Evil, I might have t'punch you." Lavi's a good listener, and obviously Kanda's opinions mess with his mind. Lavi would pretty cheerfully toast himself as unhinged, but he'll just as soon break the bottle over your head if you say he isn't unbiased.

He is... _partial_towards Kanda, which is why they can't meet very often and can never talk shop. How sad. What way will they find to occupy their time?

Moon-watching, maybe. It's a full moon, and she is waxing lyrical. If you look hard enough into the long grass, the scales on the insects glint.

"I haven't been in bloody Western Europe in months, all your fault." Not that Kanda minds. Blood-thirsty killing machine though he may have been created as, it still feels easier to breathe here than it had been at HQ. The people have a calming effect, possibly thanks to his association of curbing his temper with Lenalee.

Argh. Right now, Lenalee is not the person he should be thinking about. Kanda blinked slowly, telling his mind to think of the rice fields cut into the sides of the hills. Yes, paddy, _yes_.

And when he opens his eyes again there's now less than a foot of space between Lavi and him.

He manages to curb his initial instinct to brutally tear apart this body in sudden proximity to his bare hands. Lavi maybe has an almond tilt to his green eye.

"Y'welcome, then." He thinks about the magnitude of his action, and how as he had lunged for Kanda as quietly as he could he also had to curb his initial instinct to brutally tear apart this body in sudden proximity to his bare hands. Little soldier boys, Kanda's retired, he must be living the good life. Lavi had to avoid getting shot a couple of time in the past couple of months, but hey, he's only slightly bitter.

Kanda, busy.

Kanda has no time for idle chit chat. Seize the day! If the man was close he would have realised that Kanda has seized to-day two-days ago.

He just about manages to say "You're allowed to miss me" before he indulges in his first kiss of the bloody _year_.

It's heated, obviously. And also quite confused. In Lavi's extended absence, Kanda has stopped seeing the point in having his tongue anywhere out of his mouth.

Lavi, fortunately, is not out of touch.

The theme of kissing, of love in general, maybe, is baby, do to me so's I can do unto you, rinse and repeat onto forever.

Kanda still has obscenely nice hair. It's very soft, like a healthy Afghan hound's coat. Shiny, and lacquer might be Oriental and a prettier alternative to crude oil but it's nowhere near lively enough to make a worthwhile comparison. Lavi grabs a handful, and is incapable of letting go at this moment.

When they break apart, they're panting. They catch their breath pretty fast, though. A handy skill when kissing goodbye's faster (and less desperate) than saying it but being breathless and starry-eyed isn't a healthy state of being in the middle of a bloody battle.

Lavi smiles. Kanda almost does.

"Shall we?"

They fall onto the bed.

And get bruised. It's just a thin mattress on the floor, and the floor complains much louder than their sharp hisses. "Fool," growls Kanda, and Lavi gets smacked around. He isn't complaining, though.

Not a lot, at least. "Hey, watch out f'my face! I can't go round being invisible if you've punched my nose off!"

"We're in bed and you're thinking about your nose?" Of all the b(lo)ody parts... Kanda is irritated and therefore wants to swat something.

"I need it t'breathe. Plus I'd look a damn sight odder without a nose, don't y'think?"

Kanda does think about it. He imagines an eye patch over a hole where Lavi's nose used to be. Like a panda whose black patches migrated across its face, ending up lost. "You should try that look out."

"Har har," Lavi intones like he's reading a eulogy. "Now, c'mon, we're on a bed 'nd totally naked. This how you were planning t'spend our time?"

No, it was not.

Contact, he's said this (in his head) numerous times.

"I don't think about it all the time."

"Y'think about it a little?"

Kanda nods.

"Always believed quality's more important, yeah," Lavi enthuses this white lie of his. A year of mixed snarls and fights and frosty civility trumped an hour of passionate embrace, surely.

They've still not done anything exceptionally sexual, except being naked, but then, so are daffodils, waving their reproductive organs about, and there's nothing sexy about that. Kanda blames the chill in the air, though the skin pressed to the bed is sweating already.

"Get on with it."

His nails scratch down Lavi's front, like he's looking for a hold to catch on. Red lines run down Lavi now, pinstripes like wallpaper.

Lavi rolls them over, Kanda flat on the bed, and he at an acute angle to Kanda from where their hips are pressed together. "Has Yuu no patience?"

There isn't much of a difference in how to say 'You' and 'Yuu', but with enough effort and conviction, Kanda has little doubt when he's being called by his name by Lavi.

"You have to _ask_?"

Lavi's the patient one. He can sit down and write and write and write everything about everyone, where Kanda would hold them at knifepoint and tell them to write it themselves, no funny business.

"Can y'believe it's been twelve months since we last saw each other? It's creepy that it always feels like 've just seen you."

Time passes faster when it doesn't matter. Time is money and all that, but it means nothing if when someone throws you a coin you're disappointed it isn't made of chocolate. "I had to wait until Lenalee stepped on me before the rocks got moved, you bastard." Kanda is a little bitter, because he'd been prepared for their separation to hurt emotionally, but physically being pinned down by heavy, sharp things made the memory difficult to be fond of.

Now, though, he's being pinned down by a heavy, soft thing, and this one's a lot easier to be fond of. He bravely thrusts his hips, trying to remember the usual procession of motions that used to move so much faster than this snail's pace.

Lavi hums, then pushes down, and Kanda makes a sound that would be like an angry purr, if that were possible. Too soft and nonthreatening to be a growl, but Kanda resembles a kitten about as much as a cactus would. Angry purrrrrrrrr.

"Yuu, we okay with me being on top?"

Neither yes nor no have any 'r's in them, which is a pity since Kanda has so many to spare. "Fine."

They continue with this rutting thing, because it seems to be an intelligent, workable plan (and it's heating things up enough to dispel that non-existent chill).

Lavi wonders if it's already gone, midnight. Has it become a new day?

The sun's not up, but Kanda's certainly arching upwards. Lavi plants smiling lips to Kanda's collarbone, and gives the thought of lubrication some consideration.

But some things take precedence. He has to make time in the day to pry Kanda's year out of him. He's working to make the boy a legend, remember?

Give Lavi more things to exalt Kanda with.

There's a bottle of oil in Kanda's pack. He might have been roughing it as he travelled, but if there was no threat of an Akuma gunning him down, if all he had to be concerned about were bad-tempered bandits waving about spears and guns, he bloody _will_build a fire, unhook the frying pan knotted to the strap of his backpack, and fry whatever small mammal, fish or the occasional amphibian he could catch into something approaching a decent meal.

It is not impossibly difficult to get rice here, of all places. Finding a mill for buckwheat is a lot more improbable, and he didn't know the art of making noodles anyways.

Kanda can find wild garlic in a forest by sheer instinct alone, though.

That settles the question of easing, but even as he coats his fingers in olive oil that makes him think of the split ends in his now-uncared-for hair, Lavi is trying to think of a convincing way to encourage Kanda to indulge him with stories when it's light again.

Next year, perhaps, he thinks a bit distractedly, moving back between Kanda's legs and bruising his knees on the floor through the mattress so thin its presence is immaterial.

"Going t'hurt, I reckon. Be brave 'nd be glorious, yeah?"

Has Kanda had sex before, prior to Lavi? Fuck off, it's not something you need to know. Not even Lavi's sure, and he's the know-it-all by profession. But Lavi's brand of bed banter is something he finds strangely appealing. It always felt little short of a rousing cry to battle, and were Lavi a General, he would have been stupidly motivational.

Led more men to their death, probably. He leads Kanda on with a light hand.

As if a little bit of pain would matter. Riding a camel for weeks separates the men from the boys still in possession of feeling in their nether regions. Kanda can endure this. "Obviously," he retorts, because when is he ever not visibly brave?

The glory is another matter that can wait another moment for further introspection.

The first finger goes into Kanda without much ado. They've done this a great many times before, and even if Kanda is creaky and out of practice, it's easy enough to distract himself from this.

So it goes for the second finger and gentle stretching.

Lavi takes his time doing this, half a mind on Kanda, half a mind feeling concerned that his Hokkien accent convinced no one while he was trudging through Hong Kong.

He did not expect any fuss; Kanda seems quite accommodating.

Until he tries for the third finger, and Kanda stiffens like a petrified tree and exhales a 'Fucking god.'

Maybe Kanda isn't adjusting as well as hoped, though while he's heard of people who would fake coming, this is a brand new case of someone faking being stretched.

"Stupid fool," he scolds patiently, but doesn't let up. "Know your boundaries, yeah? No one's died 'nd made y'a god, Yuu."

As if the holy would indulge in this blasphemy.

As if the holy would lose their train of thought just because Lavi bites a hip bone distractingly.

It takes more time than it usually does, but this hasn't even been a usual for a very long while, and Lavi truly is the patient one of the two tied with red string.

It's why Kanda didn't mind being in the position he is in.

Besides, impeccable memory serves a purpose, you know.

Lavi presses something, and Kanda's open-mouthed in shock (and what may pass for delight).

"Strike," Lavi mutters, because the grin is occupying his mouth thoroughly.

Kanda's grinning too, and the flash of teeth made it look more predatory than friendly, but no less affectionate than aggressive.

Like the more loving sort of smirk, really, and Lavi cannot recall how he thought he would be completely alright with leaving Kanda under that pile of rubble and _not_planning to meet somewhere in China, a year on.

No one could make an expression like That. Lavi's committed a great number of lips to memory, and this is empirical fact.

His grin grows even wider. "Ready?"

"Obviously."

Lavi gets settled between Kanda's legs, settles Oriental (the body may be one matter, but it's the soul that counts) ankles around his waist, and gets comfortable.

It's unexplainable, Kanda thinks distantly, how they line up so well.

Lavi starts pushing in, and Kanda meditates on the lip of a teacup.

How inviting, how wide, how accommodating.

He channels the spirit of the lip of the teacup, because teacups don't feel pain, and after so long Kanda isn't desperately interested in feeling pain either. He just wants to fit Lavi in.

The tea is what gives the teacup purpose, Kanda supposes; Lavi's all in after the time it takes a lotus to bloom and die and be reborn, and breathes harshly into Kanda's shoulder.

Kanda squeezes Lavi's shoulders absently, and waits for the breathing to even out, for the trembling to calm, for the goosebumps to level out. He's missed this, obviously, but evidently nowhere near as much as Lavi had.

"Oi. You alright?" Kanda smoothes red hair that's grown longer down Lavi's back. He repeats this motion. And repeats. Like putting on a coat of red paint to Lavi's shoulder blades, or glazing the skin.

"'m _very_good, thank you." Lavi meanwhile is concentrating on a solitary milky-white moth resting on the wall behind the bed, committing to memory the whorls and marks of dark brown on pale wings, drawing it over and over again in his mind in as many colours as he can imagine, which, at the moment, is not an impressive number. He's already used magenta twice now. "You?"

"Fine." Kanda would've tried a shrug, but it's smarting a little down there, and small movements even of such subtle nature would be tremendously discomfiting. A breeze blowing in lightly through the window would have been pleasant; he didn't want much else. He's sticky, and if there was no shower provided he'll have to trek and find a river tomorrow. With a sore behind, no less.

(He does travel with a bar of soap. He buys a new one as soon as the old one finishes, and Kanda's version of roughing it involves facing the Great Outdoors, but facing it cleaner, better-smelling, and better-fed than most. So he had decided even before he left on this mission.)

"Gimme a mo' t'catch my breath, yeah?"

Take all the time you need, thinks Kanda. You're the stupid bastard who needs to be gone by noon, I have nothing on my plate, except for a couple more prawn dumplings.

Kanda is still smoothing out dark red hair. It's gone down from being acutely painful to merely completely uncomfortable. He wiggles a bit to make sure that everything is working well.

There's no accumulation of candle wax from a flickering candle to tell them how much time has passed, just the presence of the moon and internal clocks that have been taught over the years to disregard matters as paltry as night and day.

Teacup, teacup, teacup. Another drop drips in from the spout of the pot, and the nature of the tea, the concentration and the warmth and the colour may change, but the nature of the cup does not. This is quite symbolic of their relationship, his and Lavi's and Allace's.

They've shared a teacup and tea just that afternoon (Kanda is greatly superior to Lavi when it comes to distracting himself.)

"You can start moving." Kanda gives his blessing.

Lavi gives his thanks.

It's quieter than it should be, and Lavi is concerned with his performance. He's very close to his limit, but Kanda seems to be moving further and further away from his.

"Yuu?"

"Mmph. What."

"I'm not blowing y'mind, am I?"

What a time to feel inferior (though the answer is yes). "It will get better," Kanda confidently asserts. "It's bad then it gets better."

Lavi can be excused for thinking Kanda is possibly the hardest optimist in the entire world. Was this his mantra, all the way through the war?

While flat on his back staring at sky, half-buried?

My, oh my. This is motivational.

Lavi takes a lot more care, a lot more time, and when next he thrusts it's with a devilishly distinct upwards angle. He's got Yuu all mapped out, oh aye.

Kanda's faith is vindicated when Lavi hits the spot.

He even manages a smirk after he's done with what counts as, but cannot be said to be, a gasp. Really, he's _always_right.

Encouragement is the best sort of leverage for this condition they are in. Lavi is biting Kanda's shoulder, holding on to the meaning of life with his teeth.

Kanda is bucking up to meet each downward thrust, and his throat is hoarse because there's a lot of inhaling and exhaling going on, but swallowing is not ranked highly in an order of importance (moaning is). He is maybe murmuring Lavi's name out every other breath.

Lavi maybe hears it.

Climax is achieved... sharply. Lavi is trying to keep a steady tempo one moment, Lavi can die happy the next.

Hell, he has even found it within his heart to press upon Kanda quite the sweetest kiss that's ever existed, and because Lavi truly is talented in more ways than one, Kanda can now die happy(-ish) too. He manages to call out "Lavi!" at the last moment, and "Alice," is sighed out as bones turn non-existent, and even that Lavi appreciates. Kanda's trying to accommodate all this changing-of-aliases madness, even if he repeatedly declares himself as accommodating as a rolling stone. Kanda's even trying to accommodate him, because Lavi is still wrapped in Kanda's arms.

They're both sweaty and panting and Kanda is feeling distinctly uncomfortable after the haze of Earthly euphoria, as Lavi hasn't pulled out yet.

There's a breeze, though. Really, Kanda wouldn't ask for anything more.

* * *

><p><strong>Encore<strong>.

Morning broke a while ago, the rooster has had his song. The proprietor was surprised people could be in the mood for dumplings so early, and could last so long.

They knocked on her door an hour past dawn, and there they're still sitting, a few minutes to noon.

There's a piece of paper on the table, full of scribbles, and in the bottom-left corner lay a map of China in all a miniature's glory.

Kanda is distracted by a coloured painting of a brilliant green snake, long and lithe and lively, but Lavi pulls his attention from the Oriental Whip Snake and sets it firmly on the map.

"Not th'most accurate map, but drew it while you were showering, so don't complain. D'you know where y'are, Yuu?"

Kanda stares at China. From what he remembers, he entered her hard and fast from the north-west, then violently rampaged all the way to the north-east, before realising the futility in life and everything. At which point he had scoffed in the general direction of his compass (he'd put it down somewhere while he set up camp, and it was never found again) and simply began heading south.

He covered the top half of the map with his thumb. "Not there."

And while on paper that has eliminated a lot of land, both of them know in real terms, Kanda couldn't tell his elbow from Canton, even without the influence of opium.

Lavi appears strangely pleased with this, which automatically makes Kanda strangely displeased. "What."

"This makes th'place perfect!"

Kanda can't see why it needed any help in that aspect, but it would be unlike him to say this. _Regardless_of how good it had felt to see a familiar face. Familiar faces are important in Kanda's little world, the circle he can directly affect with arm and sword.

Lavi knows he speaks cryptic often.

Lavi knows he is speaking cryptic at the moment.

"Yuu, so long as y'can't give out th'location of th'place if someone decides t'hunt me down, we can do this again next year! There's always something afoot in China, it's not strange f'me t'hang around nearby, yeah?"

Kanda blinks. He is terribly bemused, and the green tea isn't being very soothing. "Do this. Again." Isn't this when Lavi is supposed to say _goodbye farewell we shall never meet again oh were I not a lie and you not Yuu this would have been something beautiful._

Ahem. Something of that nature. Isn't this the final one-off, in their long, glorious history of strange one-offs?

"Don't give me that look! I can't've been that disappointing in bed! Yeah, 'm out of practice, but really?" Lavi's distress is palpable.

"You brought it on yourself. I'm not the one who left."

The atmosphere is light. Kanda is accustomed to being left.

"Well." Lavi's mind tries to put to words thoughts that never seem capable of taming. "Then think 'f me as th'one who comes back?"

"Once. Now you're leaving again."

How reminiscent of that day a year ago. Kanda's calmer than the clear blue skies.

"Leaving means I get t'come back. So y'have to tell me, if I come back here in a year's time, where'll you be?"

A long pause; the wind blew and the sun moved a little. It inches closer to noon.

Kanda takes a sip of his tea, and bites down on the lip. Sometimes you need to know some things are set in stone.

Lavi watches. It's his job.

Kanda stretches his back, and glances down at the bag at Lavi's feet.

His own bag is leaning against his chair. His heading? Anything in a northerly direction. He'll get home eventually. And do some looking as he travels, because there's always someone to look for (to look after).

"If I get here late and you didn't wait for me, I will actually kill you."

Lavi breathes easy again. Pythons can go for weeks without a meal, but surely he's the most slippery snake.

He needs sustenance only once a year.

The sun hits high noon, and a strong breeze kicks up. Dust and leaves go flying, and Lavi stands, hitches his bag. "Next time, we're not going t'bed until you tell me every single thing that's happened t'you, yeah? I'll impose chastity."

He leans over, Kanda looks up, and they kiss. It's memorable in its mildness, and because Lavi's smiling and Kanda almost is.

And Lavi goes, and Lavi's gone, and Kanda continues sipping his tea.

He stares at the sky until his eyes water. He's in no rush.

* * *

><p>AN: Kinkmeme fill from aeons ago. Slowly starting to back everything up to c: Hello guys! Sorry if you were expecting something decidedly more explicit, I'm crapola at porn. Alternate title for the story is Somewhere in China, because I've half a mind to do a Somewhere in – series about the boys, everywhere. This isn't an AU, surprisingly enough. It's also one of my favourites, for no reason I can understand. Just the _feel_ of it, you know?

Thank you for reading!


End file.
